Anna silently turned on the recorder. Viktor smiled—the same smile she had seen in old photographs.
"Do you know the mistake all investigators make? They look for motive. They try to understand 'why.' But sometimes there is no 'why.' Sometimes there's only 'what for.'"
"And what did you do it for?"
"Oh, are you talking about Katya? Or Sophia?" he leaned forward. "Or those whose bodies were never found? Like Masha Svetlova? Twenty years ago, three months before Katya Voronova. Mikhail Stepanovich didn't know about that case. It happened in another city."
Anna felt a chill run down her spine. Another victim. Another family not knowing the truth.
"Tell me about Masha."
"First about the elephants," Viktor leaned back in his chair. "You understand that it's about them, don't you? Not about the girls—about the elephants. Every collection must be completed. Every story must have an ending."
"Where is Sophia?"
"In a safe place. With a reliable person. You've seen his photograph—the third man in the picture. His name is Igor. Igor Vasilyev. Though now, he has a different surname. Just like me."
"Why are you telling us this?"
Viktor tilted his head, examining Anna like a curious exhibit. "Because the game is over. Because the seventh elephant has taken its place. And because you're too late anyway."
At that moment, Dorokhov practically burst into the room. "We found remains," he gasped. "In the forest, near the old chapel. A woman."
"Not a woman," Viktor gently corrected. "A girl. Masha Svetlova. I did promise to tell you about another murder."
Anna stood up abruptly. "Where is Sophia?"
"Well, that," Viktor smiled again, "depends on how quickly you solve the riddle. You know, each elephant has its own story. And each story has its own elephant. White ones for those who have found peace. Blue ones for those who are still waiting."
"Take him away," Anna ordered the guards. At the doorway, Viktor turned back: "Give my regards to Mikhail Stepanovich. Tell him his collection will soon be complete too."
When the door closed behind him, Anna turned to Dorokhov: "Check on Granin immediately. And find everything you can about Igor Vasilyev."
"Already done," Dorokhov handed her a folder. "Igor Vasilyev is now known as Igor Sokolov. He works as a teacher. At the very same school Sophia attended."
Anna felt the ground disappear from under her feet. All these months he had been nearby. Watching. Waiting.
"And another thing," added Dorokhov. "They found a collection of elephants in his office. Green ones. Seven of them."
Outside, the rain was starting again. Somewhere in the city, a physical education teacher named Igor Sokolov was completing his collection. And time was relentlessly slipping away, taking with it the hope of saving Sophia.
Viktor was right. Every story must have an ending. But what ending would this one have?
Chapter 6: The Green Elephant
The physical education office greeted Anna with stale air and the smell of dust. On Igor Sokolov's desk was perfect order: journals in a neat stack, a class schedule in a tidy frame, photographs of sporting events on the wall. And a shelf with elephants.
"Are these definitely the same ones?" Dorokhov carefully picked up one of the figurines.
"Yes," Anna checked against a photograph on her phone. "Imperial Porcelain Factory, the same series. Only green."
